


no shortage of sordid, no protest from me

by SleepyBanshee



Category: SKAM (Italy), SKAM (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M, Set in the future, drunken marriage au, ele is 25 in this, they go to vegas and woops they are married now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 17:56:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20139610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyBanshee/pseuds/SleepyBanshee
Summary: She peered over at Edo’s sleeping form and caught the flash of gold on his ring finger. It looked to be a match to her beautiful and simple band, and Eleonora was distraught that it wasn’t his usual thick dark grey silver band that he favored.Ele looked back up at the ceiling and hoped the world would swallow her whole. Because it was looking far more likely that she was married to one Edo Incanti--her ex-love/boyfriend.The universe really did have a shitty sense of humor.





	no shortage of sordid, no protest from me

The first thing Eleonora remembered was the splitting pain in her head. She grumbled as her lashes parted open ever so slightly to be greeted with the bright sun. The light made everything worse, and she burrowed deeper into her pillow. With her eyes kept carefully shut, as Ele was no dumbass, she assessed her body. Her mouth felt thick with cotton and just as dry. Her stomach was somewhat queasy. She could feel the sleepies clouding her eyes even without opening them. None of these were particularly shocking, and all seemed pretty typical for a wild night out during a girl’s trip to Las Vegas. Well, sort of girl’s trip. 

But the mostly naked part? That’s where Eleonora started to get a bit worried. She shuffled her body slightly to assess her clothed, or lack thereof, state and was annoyed that she almost slipped off the bed. Whoever thought silk sheets were sexy needed to die. Because the last thing Eleonora wanted right now was to reenact her slip n slide incident from when she was eight. Yeah, she’s wanted to pass. 

The mostly naked part is somewhat alarming, but not terribly so. She still has on her underwear. No, the worst part is when she did her little shuffle she heard a soft groan coming from beside her. The groan was deep and sleep mussed and definitely did not sound like Sana, Eva, Fede, or Silvia. But she hoped and prayed in the few seconds of denial when she refused to look over at her bed companion that maybe hungover Sana, Eva, Fede, or Silvia had a rich deep voice. It wasn’t that ludicrous, right? 

Eleonora took a deep breath and regretted the movement as it emanated down her achy body. But Eleonora, while deeply flawed, was not a coward. So she slipped around on the stupid fucking silk sheets (seriously, honest to god, who thought these were a good idea?) and slowly opened her eyes, bracing for the pain of the bright room. 

And she shut them quickly. 

Because lying in bed next to her was none other than Edoardo Freaking Incanti. 

Holy shit. 

Eleonora peeked out from under her lashes once again and was relieved to find his eyes closed and breathing even. For now, he was asleep. Thank god. This meant Eleonora had a second to figure out how to get herself out of this situation without anyone knowing. 

There were undoubtedly several things to consider. 

Why was Edoardo Incanti in Las Vegas?  
How on earth did she end up this drunk as someone who rarely, if ever, drank?  
Why did people buy and use silk sheets?  
And perhaps, the most pertinent question:  
Why was Eleonora Francesca Sava mostly naked, hungover, and in bed with Edoardo Incanti? 

She lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the big laugh that whatever deity was awake and cognizant of her situation was having and how much she hated them at this moment. 

How was this the second fucking time she woke up hungover and in bed with an Incanti brother? 

Fuck her life. 

The differences were extreme, though. 

She does have a vague memory of ordering the first...several rounds of drinks.  
She may also have a vague memory of going up to Edoardo and whispering sweet nothings in his ear (jesus fucking christ, past Ele)  
She knows they didn’t have sex and she knows without a fucking doubt that no matter if Ele had murdered Edoardo’s future child, that he would never take advantage of this situation. In fact, if anything, Edoardo probably had to stop whatever attempts at getting him into bed she may or may not have attempted (read: she 100% attempted). 

So altogether she’s been in worse situations. She’s been in worse situations with the Incanti family, to be more specific. She turned her head to look at him and was relieved to find him clothed, at least the parts she could see. So whatever damage past Ele had done, at least it wasn’t worse. Ele lifted her arms from her side and covered her face with her hands. Gently rubbing her face with the palms of her hands. 

God, she might really and truly never drink again. 

As she contemplated the hot shower she would soon take and the massive glass of water she was desperately looking forward to, Ele felt something on her finger. A ring of some sort. 

Not exactly odd. Ele wore rings occasionally and last night had been a special night for Silvia. Bachelorette parties required a certain level of elegance. Definitely a certain level that was severely lacking for her now. Ele lifted her hands from her face and opened her eyes. 

There, sitting comfortably on her left-hand ring finger were two new additions to the Eleonora Sava jewelry collection. One was a thin gold band that was simple but beautiful. The other, well, the other was a significant diamond ring. 

Why the fuck was she wearing wedding rings? 

You know those times where someone is telling a story, or you’re watching a show or movie, and you just think: How could you be stupid enough to get in that situation? 

Well, let’s just say that Eleonora had new empathy for those protagonists. Because, as it turns out, it is deceptively easy to be in one of those stupid situations. 

Ele hoped more than anything that this would turn out to be a big joke, but she figured that nothing about her current predicament seemed to be easy on her, why would she suddenly think that she woke up hungover, memories hazy, with wedding rings on and not be married?

Eleonora didn’t scream, but only because the sound would double her intense headache. 

She peered over at Edo’s sleeping form and caught the flash of gold on his ring finger. It looked to be a match to her beautiful and simple band, and Eleonora was distraught that it wasn’t his usual thick dark grey silver band that he favored. 

Ele looked back up at the ceiling and hoped the world would swallow her whole. Because it was looking far more likely that she was married to one Edo Incanti--her ex-love/boyfriend. 

The universe really did have a shitty sense of humor. 

Although Eleonora had told herself moments before that she wasn’t a coward when she needed to look to see who she was lying next to her, she drew the line at dealing with a surprise husband this early in the morning without a shower and coffee. 

She slowly shifted to the edge of the bed where she found the rest of her clothes and she hurriedly put them on, hoping not to wake her...husband while doing so. 

She reached down and grabbed her purse, having finished shimmying on her dress and looked inside to reveal a dead phone, a lot of one dollar bills (did they go to a strip club?) and a gently folded piece of paper. 

As much as Ele’s finger’s ached to open the piece of paper which she assumed would confirm her suspicions that she was now married, she withheld and left the hotel room as quietly as possible before stopping in the hall. 

She was more than thankful that she was, indeed, in the same hotel she should’ve been in. She padded to the elevator in bare feet, hungover, and hair mused and pushed the four on the elevator. The jazzy and cheerful music in the mirrored-wall elevator mocked her, but mostly Ele just hoped no one got on the elevator with her. She relished the few moments of silence to wrap her pounding head around everything. 

The ding of the elevator blared, and she walked purposefully down the hallway, swiping her card in her room and putting the do not disturb sign on the door before locking it. Thank god she had decided to have a room to herself. She was not up to facing anyone, let alone the girls. 

She frantically opened her purse and pulled out the thick paper. At the top, in fancy bold letters read “Marriage Certificate.” 

Ele felt a dull whir in her ears, and her eyes blurred with unshed tears. She didn’t read the entire thing all she did was see her own signature and Edoardo’s before she felt like breaking down. 

Come to Vegas, Silvia said. It’ll be fun, Fede had told her. 

And oh, how right they were, Ele thought sarcastically. It was always her dream to wake up in Vegas next to an ex, married, and unable to remember her own wedding. She was so sure that baby Ele was beaming with pride at her future self. 

Fuck everything. 

She put the certificate down and reached over to her nightstand to plug in her phone. She waited until the red battery popped up before taking off her dress and walked to the bathroom. To say that Eleonora looked rough would be an understatement. She had bags under her eyes, her hair was a tangled mess, her skin pale from her queasy stomach. 

And in response to her current state, Eleonora laughed. She cackled, in fact. Because what else was she going to do? It was kind of funny. And funnier still was the thought about how everyone always said how beautiful the bride was and here was Eleonora--a mess--and she was now the beautiful bride. C’mon, it was funny. 

Or maybe this was step, what? Two? Or Three of a breakdown? Who’s to say? 

She gave herself one further look before shrugging at her reflection and turning the water as hot as it could go without burning her skin. She stepped into the tiled shower and let the water hit her back and relished the heat soaking into her bones and skin. She grabbed her body wash and gently lathered it across her body, taking her time and luxuriating in the warmth she found in the shower. Once she had scrubbed her hair and washed her face, the last of the sleepies coming out, Eleonora turned off the shower and dried herself off. 

She changed quickly into a pair of blue jeans and a long sleeve blouse. She felt better. More like herself. She turned the faucet on and filled a glass left by the hotel. Ele chugged the entire glass of water, taking large gulping breaths afterward. 

It was only as she set the glass down that she noticed her wedding rings were still in place. She looked down at them and moved her fingers to feel the smooth metal now residing on her left hand. 

She should’ve taken them off. 

She didn’t. 

Instead, she walked over to her, nightstand grabbed her phone and turned it on. She had approximately three million notifications. Apparently, drunk Ele thought the best way to announce her marriage was over Instagram. She had missed calls and texts from friends and families. The girls, themselves, had sent her a bunch of messages. Even her mother had tried calling several times. She also had numerous congratulatory messages to the pictures she put online. 

But really, Eleonora ignored all of that. Because she couldn’t get past the actual pictures, she had posted to announce her marriage. 

She looked...happy. No, ecstatic. The Ele in the picture was beaming. She was facing a laughing Edoardo, and her eyes shone bright, and she looked completely and most ardently in love with him. She couldn’t get over her happiness in the picture. 

Had she ever looked like that before? She couldn’t necessarily remember, but the Ele in the photo was settled and content. And it wasn’t just this one picture, a fluke. She went over to her photo app and looked at dozens of similar photos. Some where she looked just as she did in the one she posted and others where she was looking away from the camera and Edo was returning the love-filled gaze Ele had given him. 

It floored her. 

Had she been her happiest sitting in an Elvis themed chapel getting married to Edo and she could only remember certain aspects?

It’s not that she was necessarily surprised that her drunk self wanted Edoardo. She still loved him. She knew that. They didn’t break up a year after they got together because of anything other than distance, time differences, and busy schedules. They were friends. They kept in touch. It was easier than the pressure to be more. 

But she knew she loved him. She knew it as much as she knew anything. So, it’s not necessarily surprising that drunk Ele looked so enamored. Hell, slightly hungover, completely sober, and giddy Eleonora all were enamored with Edoardo Incanti. 

This just wasn’t the way this should’ve gone. 

She still had too many frustratingly unknowns about last night and whatever decisions had led her to walk down the aisle and sign a marriage certificate. It irked her that she couldn’t get the full story from sitting alone in her room. Eventually, she was going to have to talk to Edo, her husband. 

Boy, did she want to do anything other than talk to him about their situation. 

She was pulled from her phone by a knock at the door, and Ele hesitantly put her phone on silent and walked toward the doorway peering into the peephole. She pulled away and leaned her forehead on the door for a few seconds to strengthen her resolve before she stood up straight and opened the door. 

Edoardo Incanti stood in black jeans and a white button-down holding a brown paper bag that smelled heavenly and a small styrofoam cup holder filled with two things of to-go coffee. Really, the caffeine was the only reason she decided to let him in. He looked freshly showered like her, and his hair was weighed down with water, but she could see the curls springing to life. How was he this attractive after a bender? Although she guessed he might not have had quite so much to drink. Another question for the list. 

She held the door open for him, neither of them said anything but Edoardo walked into her hotel room and set the food and drinks down on the little table next to the window in her room. She shut and locked the door before padding over to him--still barefoot. She all but collapsed in the chair reaching out to grab the coffee cup he had set in front of her. 

She took a sip and moaned. It was exactly what she needed. The hot coffee coated her mouth, and the smell helped wake her. She lifted her head to meet Edoardo’s gaze and found him entranced. The moaning probably didn’t help. She cleared her throat and reached greedily for the bag and pulled out a buttery croissant. She looked down at it and tore off a bite before popping it into her mouth. She didn’t moan again, but almost. 

Her head snapped to his as she tasted the baked good. 

“This is a pistachio chocolate croissant,” Ele stated. Edoardo tilted his head at her in question. “It’s my favorite,” she told him. He nodded. 

“Yeah, that’s why I got it,” He said nonchalantly as if getting her what she so desperately needed and wanted without being asked was just a reasonable thing to do. Maybe though, maybe it was for him. He did always have a particular knack for giving her, or offering her, precisely what she needed. 

The silence at the table was surprisingly comfortable with a twinge of tension as she finished her croissant. Edoardo looked between her and the view from the window while sipping his own coffee. 

It was then, as he pulled up his coffee cup to his lips that she noticed it. 

“You still have your ring on,” Ele said gesturing to his hand with her head. 

“Edoardo looked at her for a moment before replying, “So do you.” 

It wasn’t that she was wrong, but it felt like a bigger call out than the simple statement of fact. 

“What the fuck happened last night?” She asked, unable to keep her questions at bay any longer. She studied Edoardo carefully and noticed that his eyes dulled at his question. He sat up in his chair and took a deep breath. He looked...resigned. Not at all what she thought he would be. 

“You don’t remember?” 

“I remember buying a lot of drinks, and maybe hugging you? There also might have been some uh, advances on my part, but that’s about all,” she shrugged. Edo clasped his hands together on the table. He looked like he was at a strategic war council and Eleonora wondered what about her face or questions made him act as though he was about to send thousands of men and women to their deaths in the horrors of war. 

“Okay,” he started while nodding his head. “Okay, Luca called and invited me, well, actually begged me to come down for his bachelor party. He bought the ticket and everything,” Ele smiled along with Edo at that information. It was an ongoing joke that Edoardo was Silvia and Luca’s real love, not each other. 

“So, of course, you came,” she said. 

“Of course I came,” he confirmed. “He just told me the hotel which is where I ran into a drunk you.” 

“Slightly tipsy,” she corrects. 

“Do you even remember this part? You were a little past ‘slightly tipsy,’” he mocked. She pouted in reply and whispered something that sounded an awful lot like ‘I, perhaps, do not remember,’ but he thankfully didn’t call Ele out on it. 

“So, drunk Eleonora bought me a few drinks that we had together,” and suddenly, Eleonora remembered. 

_“No, listen, Edo,” she practically purred leaning into his warm body and taking in his smell. God, he smelled good. “We are meant to be. Here we are after all this time, and we still feel each other,” she breathed out. _

_Edoardo smiled at her. “We feel each other?” He was teasing her, but she didn’t care in the slightest. _

_“You don’t feel it?” The question left her lips before she could stop it. She bit her lip to keep them from trembling. Edo was taken aback. _

_“Of course I feel it, Ele,” he said, pushing the hair back and behind her ear. _

_“Exactly,” she cawed loudly. “So we should do something about it,” she beamed up at him. _

_“You’re drunk,” he told her, laughing at her pout. _

_“So? Drunk me makes way better decisions, I’m not restricted by insecurities or dumb societal pressure.” _

_“Ele, what do you want to do? If this is real like you say it is, we can do something about it while sober,” He told her. Although he hadn’t quite had as many drinks as her, she could tell that he wasn’t exactly sober either. His thought process was far too rational for Eleonora, though. _

_She looked at him, taking in his bouncing curls, expressive and loving brown eyes, the slope of his nose and his soft and inviting lips. She loved him. She always would. _

_“Marry me,” she breathed out. She meant it; honestly, she did. She wanted to be his; for him to be hers. _

_“Ele,” he replied. _

_“No, no, Edo, I mean it,” she was practically on his lap. “It’ll be great. You can be my husband. We can get E&E embroidered on towels, and I could nag you about getting more plants. Doesn’t that sounds perfect?” _

_Edo barked out a laugh, “It does sound perfect for you.” _

_“For you too,” she said as she straddled his legs, caring little about the people in the bar around them. _

_“Yeah?” Edo asked. She was pretty sure he was laughing at her, but she ignored him. This was going to work. _

_“Yeah, we could wake up on cold mornings together in bed and stay huddled together in bed all day. We could make your nonna’s cookies together. We could face it all, together,” she whispered in his ear and felt a surge of satisfaction at the way he shivered. _

_She felt him swallow. “Eleonora, this isn’t a funny joke.” _

_“I’m not joking. Marry me,” she commanded again. _

_“You’re going to wake up tomorrow and regret this,” He told her. _

_“I won’t. This is what I want. And if I do freak out, we can get it annulled.” _

_“Ele…” She could feel his resistance waning. _

_“Edoardo you’re starting to make a girl feel rejected here.” _

_“Okay, I’ll marry you.” He told her gently before grasping her lips with his. The kiss started gentle and soft, and Ele pushed for more when she was left wanting and unsatisfied. The kiss became hurried and determined. After a few minutes, she pulled away breathing deeply. _

_“Let’s go get married,” she smiled while getting off his lap and holding out her hand to him. He grasped it immediately._

_ _Well, fuck. Ele thought as she remembered that this situation was entirely of her making. _ _

_ _She looked at Edoardo, stopping him, “I remember. It was my idea,” she said. She looked away from him to the window, and even though she was looking at the Vegas strip, her eyes were unfocused. _ _

_ _Drunk Eleonora wanted to get married. Essentially begged to get married to Edo. Filo would never let her live this down. Ever. _ _

_ _“We can get it annulled,” Edo’s voice broke her daze and inner thoughts. She turned her head towards him. He looked guarded. There are a few walk-in law offices around. We just need the marriage certificate. _ _

_ _“You want to get it annulled?” She asked, and she tried very hard to keep the hurt out of her tone. Maybe he felt that this was a big mistake. _ _

_ _“I want to do whatever makes you happy.” _ _

_ _She looked down at her hands, her rings, the smooth brown tabletop. How was she supposed to know what the hell she wanted?  
She couldn’t stay married to him, could she? Granted, she was twenty-five, had a job that she enjoyed, and she wasn’t dating anyone. It wasn’t as if she was too young or unsure. She knew of her feelings for him, but could the most impulsive ridiculous decision of her life turn out well?_ _

_ _Eleonora wasn’t the person where massive mistakes worked out well for her. She was careful to a fault, and this was the least cautious thing to ever happened. And here she was sitting across from her husband, and he was giving her space to wrap her head around everything. She truly was fucked when it came to him. _ _

_ _She wasn’t sure she wanted to be married, but she was sure about him. _ _

_ _“So,” she began, trying to keep her voice even while talking over the lump in her throat. “If I wanted to stay married to you...what then?” It was probably the most dangerous question she had that morning. Well, second dangerous, she was still deeply concerned about the number of silk sheet injuries occurring in the hotel suites._ _

_ _She wanted to keep looking down at her hands and the table. She didn’t want to see disappointment or rejection or the undoubtedly uncomfortable expression mirrored on his own face, but she looked up. _ _

_ _And, holy shit, was she rewarded. _ _

_ _His eyes that were cool and detached at the beginning of the conversation warmed and a small smirk stretched on his face. He looked younger and happier in seconds compared to his demeanor before she asked that dangerous question. _ _

_ _It was worth posing aloud, though solely for his reaction. _ _

_ _“Then I guess I’m Edoardo Sava now,” he shrugged as if the words hadn’t completely changed the course of her life. His life. She was going to stay married to Edoardo Incanti. _ _

_ _“Wouldn’t I be Eleonora Incanti?” If she thought his first smile was terrific, she was wholly unprepared for the one that came from calling herself Elenora Incanti. _ _

_ _“If you want, I’m fine with taking your last name though,” he told her. She returned her smile with one of her own. _ _

_ _It was freeing to make this decision. _ _

_ _“It might not work out,” she warned. It wouldn’t be for lack of trying though, but they hadn’t thought through everything. There was so much undecided and had they dated, gotten engaged, and then married they would’ve been able to decide. Where were they going to live? How would this complicate their finances, would their families approve? They had been friends since they ended things awhile ago, she knew the man he grew to be, but what if things were different now, what if good friends was all they should ever be? _ _

_ _“You’re right, but that might be true if we had done everything the societally expected way.” He was right, of course. She looked down at his hands and seeing the band on his finger did something funny to her insides. _ _

_ _He was hers. The world would know it. She felt giddy. _ _

_ _“Where did we get the rings?” It wasn’t a pressing question, but it had been niggling at the back of her head since she had first seen them. She may have a hazy memory of getting a reputable jewelry shop to open up for them, but the thought of them wasting so much money for rings worried her. _ _

_ _“Ah, a business associate of my father’s has a jewelry shop. We asked them to open, and we picked,” he told her. Of fucking course. _ _

_ _“Right, a business associate of your father’s.” She mocked him. “The normal way.” _ _

_ _“He’s your father too now,” Edoardo teased back enjoying the stunned look on Ele’s face at that particular realization. _ _

_ _“Wow,” she said. “Oh, does this mean your nonna will finally share her cookie recipe with me?” She asked happily. _ _

_ _“You seem more excited about that then marrying me.” He pouted. _ _

_ _“Well, I mean… It’s your nonna’s cookies,” she replied. His bottom lip came out, which furthered his overall pouty demeanor. She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. Such a ham, her husband. She stood up, walking to his side of the table, Edoardo pushed his seat back, and she curled into his lap like a cat seeking warmth on a cold day. She almost purred too. She gently traced the side of his cheek, feeling powerful as he closed his eyes to enjoy the feel of her touch him. _ _

_ _“Edoardo Incanti, I love you.” The words seemed both momentous and deeply inadequate for all she was feeling. She did love him, but it was so much more than that. She was home with him. He gave her heart a safe home. _ _

_ _He kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips quickly as a peck before Eleonora could deepen the kiss. _ _

_ _“Eleonora Incanti, I love you, my wife.” She leaned up to capture his lips and gave him a bruising kiss that she felt through her entire body. He pulled back slightly, both of them out of breath. _ _

_ _“Too bad we won’t be able to enjoy married life for too long,” Edo told her, and Eleonora looked up at him confused. “Silvia is going to kill us for taking her bridal thunder,” he laughed out. Eleonora groaned and buried her face in the crook of his neck and shoulder, feeling his body shake with laughter. _ _

_ _He was right, there were several group chats they were both in that may or may not have been titled “We love Silvia, but she’s bridezilla” and here was Eleonora married during her bachelorette party. _ _

_ _“Well, our marriage was good while it lasted,” she teased, her head still resting on his shoulder as she relished the feeling of being in his arms once again, after so long. _ _

_ _“It was perfect,” he replied._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed. This was FUN to write! 
> 
> title from hozier's angel of small death and codeine scene
> 
> always thanks to the ever lovely @/nnegan13 for letting me bounce ideas off of her + general support
> 
> Find me on tumblr: https://air-bison-yip-yip.tumblr.com/
> 
> -SleepyBanshee


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